Hello everyone! As promised, I'm back with another chapter. It's more of a filler than anything else, though... I hope you're not too disappointed.
Still, as always, thank you for reading and reviewing! You guys are fantastic and your comments are awesome to read.
Also, if the formatting looks kinda choppy and weird, I apologise. My first week as an intern has just left me so tired that I feel like I can't even think straight... :)
Three more weeks passed before Easy Company finally was taken off the line and moved to Mourmelon-le-Grand. Their limbs heavy with bone-deep exhaustion, nobody said anything when one of their comrades fell asleep on their shoulder. Sleep had become such a rare and precious commodity that they treasured every minute of it.
The trucks pulled to a stop at the staging area and weary soldiers staggered, stumbled and tumbled off the backs of the vehicles, rubbing eyes burning with fatigue and stretching out cramped and knotted muscles.
As equipment was unloaded, the medics – despite being so tired that they could barely stand – rounded up all the injured that hadn't required or had adamantly refused a trip to the aid station, looking them over to determine if the journey had aggravated any wounds or worsened symptoms.
.
Chuck helped Ana María off the truck and looped his arm around her. "I could carry you if that's easier for you", he offered.
She shook her head, flashing him a grateful smile. "No, it's alright, I can make it."
She held onto his shoulder for support and they made their way over to Catherine, Chuck adjusting his strides to match the slow, hobbling pace Ana María set.
She had badly sprained her ankle the day before when her foxhole buddy had slipped and fallen on rain-slick grass, landing right on her lower leg. He had gone to investigate the cry of pain and had been met with the sight of the diminutive Puerto Rican clutching her ankle and cursing a blue streak in Spanish while the hapless replacement stared at her with a befuddled and apologetic look on his face.
Frances had to rely on the help of four people to get down from the truck. Concussed and with a busted eardrum to boot thanks to nearly being blown up by an artillery shell last night, her sense of balance was shot to hell. Jessica and Popeye steadied her and transferred her to Smokey and Skinny who lowered her down.
Between the two guys holding her upright, Frances managed to totter towards the medics where Spina took over Skinny's position.
"Let's get you to the infirmary", the Philly man said. "You need to get your head checked out."
Frances pulled a face, but agreed without any token protests. Even if it was only some aspirin or something against the nausea roiling in her stomach, she'd take what she could get in order to alleviate her misery at least a little bit.
.
Soon enough, the last pieces of equipment had been hauled off the trucks. Maxine, who - as Guarnere's 2IC - had been their platoon sergeant since Bill had been wounded by a sniper and sent to the hospital with a bullet in the back of his leg, dismissed her guys with basic instructions along the lines of "there's your billets, grab a shower if you feel like it, good night".
Even though they were all eager to collapse onto a bunk and catch up on all the missed sleep of the last two months, many couldn't resist the temptation of a nice (and maybe even just lukewarm) shower. Theresa actually welled up at the heavenly feeling of hot water cascading down on her, washing away all the layers of grime coating her skin and hair.
Still basking in the sensation of cleanness the shower had left them with, Easy Company collapsed into their bunks. Many were asleep before their head – hair still damp – hit the cloud-soft pillow.
Though it wasn't easy to shake the constant state of alert. The smallest noise yanked them back to wakefulness and by the time their surroundings fully registered, many had already reached for a rifle that wasn't there.
A few days later, when the latest wave of replacements arrived, the dark smudges under the soldiers' eyes, which almost looked like bruises in the sunlight, were still there. Fading, but there.
Without the constant trepidation of wondering whether they'd see the next dawn, smiles and laughter became brighter and more frequent again. They were keenly aware of the holes in the company, the empty spots left by those wounded or killed, but they did their best not to think about them too much.
The replacements didn't know about those gaps.
And even if they knew about the hardships the company had endured, they couldn't fully understand. They weren't Toccoa men and they hadn't proven themselves in combat like the first group of replacements had. They were green, either unsure and jumpy or cocky and swaggering.
Many of the veterans were disgusted by the new kids. By their enthusiasm and eagerness for battle, their self-assured overconfidence, their cluelessness. The way they hopped off their transport bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
.
Perched on the hood of a jeep, Louise and Jessica watched them bustle around and try not to let their insecurity show.
"He won't last a week", Jessica predicted, pointing out one of the newbies with a lazy flick of her wrist.
Louise hummed in agreement. "That one looks two seconds away from filling his pants", she commented, cigarette smoke curling around the words.
"Yeah. Or from bursting into tears."
Jessica's mouth twisted in distaste at a corporal looking Theresa up and down when she passed them, absorbed in conversation with Lipton.
"Oh", the blonde made, eyebrow arching. "That guy thinks he's the big cheese." She shook her head. "You should have seen that look he gave Reese. I almost hope he gets put on our squad so we can knock him down a few pegs."
The sniper smirked and proceeded to roll her eyes at the ridiculous posturing those new boys engaged in, thinking that it would impress the veterans. "I'll bet you this month's pay that at least half of that group is going to get fresh with one of us girls."
"No doubt", Jessica scoffed. "They'll be in for one hell of an attitude adjustment." Gleeful anticipation spread on her face at the mental image of the brash loud-mouths getting cut to size.
.
Inside one of the many canvas tents that housed the battle-weary soldiers, Frances was trying to get some rest. But she was too focused on blocking out her persistent headache to really relax and drift off.
Hearing somebody whisper her name, she cracked open an eyelid and squinted past the arm she had thrown over her face to block the light. "Huh?"
Ana María was looking down on her, sympathy in the twist of her brow. "How are you feeling?", she asked, sitting down at the edge of the bunk and shifting so her body cast a shadow onto Frances' face.
"Uhm... my head's still pounding and the world is still a bit wobbly and everything sounds like it's under water", the North Carolinian replied, letting her arm drop to her side. "But it's much better already. How's your ankle?"
The Puerto Rican shrugged. "Sore."
"Maybe you should stay off it for a few days", Frances suggested with a grin.
Ana María laughed. "Yeah right, that's likely."
They shared a laugh. While some R&R was very much needed and appreciated, none of them were good at sitting around and idly twiddling their thumbs. And with the newest wave of replacements arriving – the first trucks had come in an hour ago and more were still to come – training would start again quickly.
Frances shimmied to the side so her friend could get comfortable. The movement caused the room to spin and tilt, making her glad for her iron stomach once more.
.
The tent door opened. Even though the sounds were muffled to her ears, she could easily identify the people entering by their footsteps and voices. Toye and Mia, the latter quietly assuring the former that "it's fine, Joe, really. It doesn't matter."
From his growling mutters, Frances gathered that Toye didn't agree. Curiosity gaining the upper hand on caution, she sat up and asked: "What doesn't matter?"
"It's not important", Mia dismissed, handing Frances some aspirin before turning to Ana María to check her ankle.
Toye grunted something indistinct, but instead of objecting, he asked the North Carolinian: "How's your head?"
"Still where it's supposed to be", came the wisecrack answer.
Ana María winced as the medic's fingers probed the bruise that was splayed black and blue across her skin. Thankfully, it didn't hurt when Mia gently rotated the sprained joint. "It's healing", was the verdict. "Try to stay off it as much as you can."
She raised an eyebrow at her friend.
The younger woman smiled and amended: "You're right. I'll wrap it for you in the morning so it doesn't hurt as much if you put weight on it."
"Sounds great", Ana María agreed easily. "Thanks Mia."
"No problem. Oh and Frances, if your headache and dizziness isn't better by morning, you'll have to go to the infirmary."
Frances groaned dramatically, but promised.
Satisfied, Mia took her leave, quietly slipping out.
.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Toye found himself pinned by two curious stares.
"What were you guys talking about?", Frances wanted to know. "What isn't important?"
He scowled and relayed what happened. One of the newest replacements had made some comments to her, trying to prove how much of a man he was. "Told her she should grow out her hair 'cause she might be mistaken for a real soldier otherwise", Joe said, his expression showing just how much he wanted to wring the idiot's neck.
Ana María gasped and an avalanche of Spanish swears spilled forth, pitch skipping right past shock and second-hand offence, jumping right to scandalised outrage at her friend's behalf. She hadn't forgotten the one time she, Mia and Jessica had been forced to run Currahee as punishment for some cooked-up offenses. And she clearly remembered that Mia's infraction had been 'being too flat-chested'.
Frances' eyes narrowed and she demanded: "You got his name? Or a look at this face? I'll cave that asshole's teeth in."
Joe grinned darkly. "I'll point him out to you", he promised.
While the other two contemplated violence, Ana María was more concerned with the effect the callous comment had had on the quiet medic. "And to think that Mia doesn't think it matters", she said mournfully, drawing her friends' gazes to her.
Toye nodded, mouth in a grim line. "Yeah."
The door opened again and Frances shied back into Ana María's shadow again, quickly raising a hand to shield her eyes. Malarkey, Luz and Muck strolled in, good cheer surrounding them like the sunlight that caught in their hair.
"Hey fellas", Luz greeted them with a wide smile. "Whoa, nice shiner, Frances!"
The woman snorted and grinned back, pushing herself upright once more after the door had closed.
Without missing a beat, Luz asked: "Guess what I heard?", flopping onto his bunk.
Conversation shifted to whatever piece of gossip Luz had managed to snatch up, anger at an as of yet name- and faceless replacement fading into the distant background. Frances pulled out her ever-present pack of cards and they decided on a simple game of Crazy Eights since that didn't require too much mental effort.
Word spread among the veterans that a certain Corporal Smith – it had been child's play to figure out the guy's name – had insulted their youngest medic. As he had been assigned to Theresa's squad, the Nebraskan was quick to deal with issue the first chance she got.
And because they knew that the replacement was getting his comeuppance, the rest of the veterans happily sat back and watched.
.
After giving her new kids the what for and why is, Theresa ended her speech by regarding them seriously and giving them a few pointers that might just help them survive a little longer.
"Listen to your NCOs", was her first advice. "We're all Toccoa veterans, we know our shit. We know each other and we are doing our best to keep you alive."
"Secondly, watch and learn. The guidebooks and regulations only get you so far. We've learned the hard way what's practical and what's useless. That said, if you don't know or understand something? Ask. Now's your best chance because out in the field, there isn't much time for it."
A few more bits of advice followed until she came to her last point.
"Word to the wise", she said, looking at the green boys under her command. "Don't piss off the medics." Smith was the recipient of a meaningful, warning look and an empty smirk. "You might outrank them, but on the battlefield, the Docs are just one rank below God."
With those words, she dismissed them to find a free bunk and get settled.
.
Louise pushed off the wall she'd been leaning against and joined her friend and fellow sergeant. "Nice", she commented with an approving nod. "Subtle, but straight to the point."
Theresa smiled. "I knew you'd like it."
The sniper hummed and explained: "I would have given him a shiner to match Frances'...or something, but that would have upset Mia."
"True", the brunette agreed.